


Bow Strings

by Madoking



Series: Together, but only if you let me. [2]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Domestic, Family, Getting to Know Each Other, Sibling Love, They're trying so hard to be there for each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-20 03:11:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19368757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madoking/pseuds/Madoking
Summary: Alexios had known, of course, at the time, that she was close with the Spartan General. But he thought of Brasidas as merely a pawn to reach her, and destabilise her enough to pierce between her ribs. In the end he did indeed reach her heart.Alexios mentions Amphipolis in passing and Kass does not take it well.





	Bow Strings

**Author's Note:**

> In this house we are Kassidas stans first and people second.

The summer was cooling down, and with it was Kassandra’s resolve to be kind to her brother.   
He was struggling with the most basic of tasks: running, shooting, he had become clumsy, and had lost his razor sharp perception of events. Just in this past week, he had broken her prized bow, and eaten the pork rind she had been coveting. He seemed diminished, somehow, with his personality disappearing into a fog. She wasn’t sure how to break his self-loathing cycle, so instead she challenged him physically as often as she could. Hence the broken bow.

“Just shoot the damn chicken” she snapped, unable to believe that his aim was so wrong. 

“It’s hard, ok?” he muttered. “The chicken keeps moving.”

“So move with it. Track it. You were able to aim at me from a fifty yard cliff, and purposely miss. Or have you always been a bad shot?”

“No! I’m a good shot. I’m just not used to your small bow, that’s all” he replied through gritted teeth. “It’s more pliable than my old one.”

“Then where is your old one? Did you sell it with your armour?”

“Yes, I sold it with my armour” he replied sarcastically. He recovered his temper slightly. “No, I never recovered it from Amphipolis.”

Even the birds seemed to quiet, as the unmentionable was voiced. Amphipolis. Where Kleon drowned, Alexios was shot, and … 

He looked at his sister, afraid of what her face held. They had never spoken about what she lost that day; what he had taken from her. He had known, of course, at the time, that she was close with the Spartan General. But he thought of Brasidas as merely a pawn to reach her, and destabilise her enough to pierce between her ribs. He reached her heart alright, and she still could not speak of it. 

She didn’t seem angry, or sad. Her jaw hardened into a set line, and the only betrayal that it was spoken of at all was the stillness of the air. 

Would they never settle this? Would this be the thing that drove them apart even as they were just truly meeting each other? 

This would be the cult’s gift, he thought. To not exist, while puncturing the fragile relationships he was trying to rebuild. 

“Kassandra, I … I can get a new bow.” He placed the bow down on the dusty field where they were shooting, and sat down next to it. His skin prickled in the sun: not a feeling he enjoyed. 

“I don’t want to ever talk about Amphipolis” she stated, a mingling of fear and anger circling through her. She reached down and picked up her bow, which had become tangled in Alexios’ foot when he sat. She pulled it up with defiance, finalising the spoken exchange. With a dreadful twang of the bow string, the bow split in half. 

Alexios was to his feet like lightning, looking to the trees for danger and wielding his paring knife. When nothing looked to eventuate, he looked to Kassandra, and her newly broken bow. 

It dangled from her hands like a ragdoll, and her shock at its breaking emanated from her face. 

“This was a gift from the followers of Artemis” she said through grief. “It’s followed me since Makedonia.”

“Kassandra, I’m sorry. I didn’t realise -”

“You never do though, do you?!” Kassandra yelled back. “You take, and you snap, and you grieve for yourself, but not for what you took from the world. Not what you took from mater and me.” She shoved him hard in the chest, pushing him back. He didn’t resist. He knew he was worthless, anyway. 

“You made me follow you all those years, you made me save you time and time again. I ran into a burning forest for you, I killed hundreds of men for you, you saw me locked in a cell and beaten to within an inch of my life because you wanted to be a demi-god. I lost my greatest love for you!”

She punched him then, her fist connecting to his chin in an uncalculated assault. It glanced off, taking some blood with it. Though he was no longer Diemos, he was still strong. 

He didn’t resist her. She was right, on all counts. He submitted to her fists willingly, letting the anger and resentment pour out of her and drain into the soil. She deserved this release, after years of punishing searching and his utter rejection of her. She punched him until he bled into the dirt, until he was on the ground. He didn’t notice her blows stop, but felt her fall to the ground next to him. 

Her frame looked so small in her sadness. Her wails shook her body into convulsions. He sat up, and gently lifted her into his lap, hugging her around the middle. The movement felt strange: they didn’t usually hug each other. At the same time, he knew that this was what she needed.

“I’m sorry, Kassandra. I’m sorry … for it all” he whispered. 

They stayed like that until her sobs decreased to nil, and the sun was at its zenith. He didn’t want to break the spell, because the truth of it was that he was touch-starved too. He needed her to hug him, just as she needed him too. 

Icarus stirred them with a shriek. _It was time for dinner_ , he said. 

Kassandra stood up, bow in hand. 

“I’ll make you a new one” Alexios said, taking it from her. “I’ve been trying to get better at working wood so I can sell things.” 

She looked at her brother, so small and diminished. She felt like she held him entirely in her hand, and only she had the power to help him grow. She took his face in her hands and kissed his forehead.

“I’m sorry too. I’m sorry for my temper, and my high expectations” Kassandra said. 

“I’m sorry I ate your pork rind” he replied, relief in his voice. She had forgotten about the pork rind. 

“Thank you little brother. Let’s head home and clean your cuts.”


End file.
